


Of Sons and Fathers

by AliuIce0814



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, at least obi's window didn't have glass, baby luke gets up to trouble, background ever-present anakin, background ever-present qui-gon, grief will kill you someday obi-wan, owen lars is not ben kenobi's friend, river stone/obi-wan otp, sand is irritating and gets everywhere, use the force luke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 05:15:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliuIce0814/pseuds/AliuIce0814
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What a child Anakin’s son is, Obi-Wan thought to Qui-Gon. What an utterly remarkable boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Sons and Fathers

**Author's Note:**

> My first Star Wars fic in years. Heavily influenced by the Jedi Apprentice series and fanon interpretations of Obi-Wan. Possibly AU because I haven't read the books or seen the films in ages. Betaed by my mum. Thanks, Mum.

                Obi-Wan was deep in meditation when the Force nudged him. The push at his consciousness was the same one he got right before Anakin tackled him from behind, and so his eyes flew open immediately, a smile and a scolding on his lips.

                Both died when he saw the sandy wall of his hut. Tatooine, not the Temple. Anakin was long gone.

                Obi-Wan put his head in his hands. The river stone he had been holding rested against his forehead. Ordinarily, its humming energy brought him comfort. Holding this wonderful gift from Qui-Gon usually centered him, but now it served to pull at the ache in his chest. _I failed you,_ Obi-Wan thought to the memories of a kind Master and a teasing Padawan _. I failed you both. Oh, Force, how I failed you both._

                The Force nudged Obi-Wan again, this time more insistently. The push brought Obi-Wan to his senses. Anakin couldn’t be near. That was impossible. Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder just in case. No, no Anakin there, no matter how hard Obi-Wan wished. Then what…

                Childish shrieks of laughter echoed up the canyon. Obi-Wan frowned and climbed to his feet. Outside, a sandstorm brewed. The suns burned orange against the shimmering brown sky. This was no weather for children to play in. Of course, parenting on Tatooine left much to be desired. Not all parents were like Shmi Skywalker, and even if they were….

                The high-pitched voices and scampering steps grew closer. Obi-Wan frowned. The Force told him there were four children approaching, ranging from the age of six to twelve. An orphan, a thief, a slave, and…

                “You’d better not go in there, Lukie. That’s where the wizard lives.”

                “Yeah, baby Lukie, that wizard’s gonna eat you up.”

                “I’m not scared,” a stubborn voice replied, and the Force practically sang with his presence. Obi-Wan closed his eyes against sudden vertigo. Luke Skywalker’s Force signature was sand and roses, gentleness and compassion with only a little of his father’s reckless curiosity—but his voice, oh, he sounded exactly like Anakin.

                “Baby Lukie’s not scared? Fine, then.” The Force shoved Obi-Wan more than nudged him this time. He stepped out of the way just in time to avoid the ball that flew through his window. At least homes on Tatooine didn’t have glass panes. The only damage the lumpy kickball did was knock over a chair. The children’s panic spiked and then receded into nervous giggles. “Go get your ball, kid.”

                Luke radiated righteous anger. Beneath that was a tiny thread of fear. “That’s not fair!”

                “Thought you weren’t scared.”

                “Well—” Pride warred with caution inside Luke. He was more like his mother than Obi-Wan had realized. Obi-Wan stretched out through the Force, ready to shoo Luke away, when Luke snapped, “Fine.” Obi-Wan thought _no,_ sent a sharp warning Luke’s way, but the boy had already scrambled up the sandy slope to his hut. He barrelled through the front door—and then, catching sight of Obi-Wan in the shadows, froze.

                Obi-Wan could barely move, either. He knew that sandy hair, those keen blue eyes. The boy’s rough tunic even matched the one Anakin had worn the day they met. Luke was a few years younger than Anakin had been, a little chubbier and more puppyish, but there was no denying he was his father’s son. Obi-Wan’s stomach clenched at the thought. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, dispelling his fears into the Force. “Well, hello there,” he said quietly.

                Luke’s jaw dropped. Obi-Wan sensed his compatriots scattering and fleeing through the canyon. A second later, Luke seemed to sense it, too. He scrambled to the door. “Hey!” he cried. The sound echoed through the hut and off the canyon walls. Perhaps unknowingly, Luke had used the Force to amplify his voice.

                The other children kept running. Obi-Wan slowly walked across the room and set the chair upright. As Luke turned around, shoulders slumped, Obi-Wan picked up the kickball. “Is this yours, young one?”

                “Ah—” Luke’s tiny hands clenched into fists. He stared at Obi-Wan for a long moment. Obi-Wan could sense Luke sensing him, testing his worth through the Force. The boy was extraordinarily strong—perhaps not on par with Anakin, but still a force to be reckoned with. His voice barely wobbled when he said, “Yes, sir. Sorry.”

                Yes, sir. So much like the way Anakin mumbled, Yes, Master, in the beginning, when the boy was too frightened to know he was not a slave and Obi-Wan was too lost in grief to tell him otherwise. At least Obi-Wan learned from his mistakes. He knelt in front of Luke, not wincing when his knees cracked. “What are you doing outside on a day like this?”

                “Aunt Beru went to Mos Eisley, and Uncle Owen’s checking the perimeter.” Luke didn’t quite meet Obi-Wan’s eyes. His shame prickled at the edge of Obi-Wan’s consciousness.

                Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow. “So they don’t know you’re gone?”

                “Well…”

                Obi-Wan could feel the run-around coming, the maybes and sort ofs. In this way, Luke was Anakin’s double. Obi-Wan cut him off before he could start. “Yes or no, Luke.”

                “No,” Luke said miserably. Then his head jerked up. He gave Obi-Wan a comically shocked look. “How do you know my name?”

                _I held you when you were born_ , Obi-Wan thought. _Your father and I were brothers. You could have been my Padawan, Luke. I know. I know._ But instead of speaking his mind, he asked, “How do you think I know?”

                “You’re a wizard,” Luke said immediately. His gaze was almost worshipful. “A real live wizard. I thought Jemma was pulling my leg.”

                Obi-Wan didn’t respond, simply gave Luke a knowing look. That was enough for Luke to be absolutely convinced of Obi-Wan’s wizardness, at least for now. Suddenly, Obi-Wan remembered how Anakin had used “wizard!” as a term of awe. He wondered if it meant the same to Luke. “Your aunt and uncle won’t be pleased that you’ve run off.”

                Luke’s smile disappeared. His cheeks flushed red. His shame welled up again, stronger than before, enough that Obi-Wan felt it in his core. Stars, but this boy was powerful. “I know. I’m going to be in so much trouble.”

                Outside, the wind whipped up. A sandstorm would flare sooner than later. Obi-Wan could feel it in his joints as well as in the Force. He sighed and handed the hand-sewn kickball to Luke. “Let’s get you home, then, before it storms.”

                “Yes, sir.” Luke scrambled backward as Obi-Wan stood. “Um….mister wizard, sir, do you have a name?”

                _Obi-Wan Kenobi,_ Obi-Wan thought. Master _Obi-Wan to you,_ _youngling._ “Ben,” he said instead.

                “Ben,” Luke repeated. Shyly, he asked, “Can I hold your hand? Last time I climbed down the canyon by myself, I fell and scraped my whole legs. Uncle Owen was so mad.”

                Obi-Wan imagined Luke clinging to his hand while he taught him about the Force and the Jedi, while he told him stories of Anakin as a child, laughing and playing in the Temple fountains. The images were half Obi-Wan’s desperate hopes and half Luke’s projections. “Of course,” Obi-Wan said. “If only to get you through the canyon. It is a difficult climb even for me.”

                Luke grabbed Obi-Wan’s hand eagerly. His chubby fingers were sticky with some unknown substance. This was why Obi-Wan didn’t love children. Luke was an exception, though, as his father had been. As they slowly picked their way through the rocks leading down to the canyon floor, Luke began to chatter about everything he had seen that day: pirates by the old pod-racecourse, Bantha tracks by the canyon mouth, a tiny flower fighting its way through the sand by a well. His speeches didn’t require much from Obi-Wan other than a smile and the occasional question. Luke was too pleased to have someone’s undivided attention to complain.

                So much like his father, Obi-Wan thought, and yet not. He could probe Luke’s mind to find the answers to his questions, but that was wrong. He could not invade Luke’s privacy, no matter how young the boy was. Instead, when Luke paused for air, Obi-Wan asked, “Have you ever seen a starfighter, young one?”

                Immediately, Luke lit up with the Force. Every inch of him seemed to vibrate with glee. “Yes,” he gasped, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Then he was off, running ahead of Obi-Wan and back again, overcome by excitement. “It was at Mos Eisley when I was there with Uncle Owen, and I wasn’t supposed to run off, but I did, and I got to see the ship, and it was silver all over, Ben, and the pilot let me go inside to look at the controls, and I bet I could fly it, I bet I could turn it on and fly away from here, and I got to watch it take off, Ben, I got to watch it fly, and it went so fast when it went up through the atm’phere it made a big BOOM! and I want to be a pilot, Ben, I want to be a pilot!” Luke ran circles around Obi-Wan before clutching his hand again.

                 By now, they were out of the canyon. The Lars’ farm was in sight, a brown smudge on the horizon. “What kind of pilot?” Obi-Wan prompted, his heart in his throat.

                Luke spoke, but Obi-Wan didn’t hear his words. He didn’t need to. Luke was projecting so strongly that Obi-Wan could feel the controls of a ship beneath his hands, could see the blur of stars as he rushed into hyperspace, could feel his stomach swoop as he led the ship through hairpin turns and thousand-foot dives. It was like being in a fighter with Anakin again. Obi-Wan hadn’t realized he could miss that terror, but he did. Oh, he did. His stomach churned with it. He missed Anakin’s yellow fighters. He missed his nosedives. He missed his reckless laughter.

                “Ben? Mister wizard? Mister wizard, are you okay?”

                Obi-Wan came back to himself in a rush. He and Luke were yards away from Luke’s farm by now. Luke watched him with worried blue eyes. His concern ran over Obi-Wan like water. “Yes,” Obi-Wan managed. “I’m sorry. You just—reminded me of an old friend, that’s all.” He managed a smile, hoping that would assuage Luke’s fears. “You will make an excellent pilot. I am sure of it.”

                Luke grinned from ear to ear. “I know,” he said with all the cockiness a six-year-old boy could muster.

                “Now, run to your house.” The hot desert wind whipped Obi-Wan’s cloak around him. He pulled his hood over his head to keep some sand out of his eyes. Luke coughed, a low, rumbling sound. Obi-Wan let go of his hand and rubbed his back instead. “The storm’s nearly here. You don’t need to be caught in it.”

                Luke coughed again. Once he caught his breath, he frowned up at Obi-Wan. “Aren’t you coming?”

                “No, I’m afraid I can’t.”

                “Why not?”

                Obi-Wan hesitated. The truth was, Owen Lars didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him, but Luke didn’t need to know that. “Because I left my window open,” he said instead. “Imagine all that sand in my house.”

                “Oh, no.” Luke’s eyes widened. “You’d better run home, Ben. Sand gets everywhere!”

                “I will. You keep out of trouble, my young friend.” _Don’t be too much like your father. You’re enough like him as it is._

                Luke nodded. “Of course I will. I can’t believe I got to meet a real wizard.”

                The wind spun harder. Luke stumbled. “Go inside,” Obi-Wan urged.

                “’Bye, Ben!” Luke started for his house. He paused halfway. Just as Obi-Wan was about to ask him what he was doing, Luke ran back to him and hugged him around the middle. Before Obi-Wan could do anything but stand there, stunned, Luke released him and flew to his house, his tiny feet kicking up sand in his wake. Obi-Wan waited until the door shut behind the boy before he turned back for his hut.

                As he struggled through the increasingly powerful gusts of wind, Obi-Wan felt for the river stone in his pocket. It hummed beneath his hand. _What a child Anakin’s son is_ , he thought to Qui-Gon. _What an utterly remarkable boy._

               

                


End file.
